


Treasure Hunt

by melagan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, M/M, Romance, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 11:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13974393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melagan/pseuds/melagan
Summary: Earth AU.  Rodney, Telya, and Ronon work as a team searching the ocean for ancient shipwrecks in the hope of finding their fortune. What they find is far more interesting than any shipwreck.





	Treasure Hunt

**Author's Note:**

> Beta credit: [mischief5](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mischief5/pseuds/mischief5)  
> Mistakes are all mine.  
> Written for the What_if? Ocean AU Challenge.

Dr. Rodney McKay navigated the remodeled fishing boat out of the harbor and headed to out to sea. _The Eratosthenes_ , a second-hand purchase with sturdy lines and an engine he'd overhauled himself, normally crewed three. The other two crew, Ronon Dex and Teyla Emmagan, made up his dive team. Each of them, himself included, had their own reasons for treasure hunting. 

Eighty years ago, a gambling ship had gone down ago off the Malibu coast. A couple of months ago, he'd found the dusty, forgotten records of the event in the town library. To date, no one had found it.  
While it didn't have the historical value of a sunken Roman warship or the promised wealth of a downed pirate ship, but it suited his needs perfectly. 

He'd be the first to claim he wasn't a seafaring man by nature. He liked his desk work, his experiments, and the safety of dry land. Ronon, now, there was a man who reveled in sea exploration. Over six feet tall with bronze muscles and a frightful headful of dreadlocks, he could have easily stepped into the role of a pirate captain. He was also the best diver Rodney had ever seen. 

Teyla had joined his crew shortly after Ronon. Rodney could admit it: he'd been dazzled by her regal beauty the moment she stepped on board. She was an excellent diver in her own right with a sixth sense about the weather that had saved their asses more than once. When he'd asked how she did it, she'd answered with some enigmatic nonsense about the soul of her island birthright. Rodney didn't press the issue; he had plenty of his own quirks to deal with.

He still had an hour before he reached his destination, time he intended to use fine-tuning the software on his LiDAR equipment. He'd put months of work into the new system, and if it worked as planned, it would create the clearest image of the sea floor ever produced. 

And, if it didn't work—he didn't want any witnesses to his failure. 

Rodney had made himself a cup of coffee in the pint-sized galley and now he was just waiting for the sonar signals to light up the seafloor for him. Once he'd lowered the equipment and started the program, there was nothing to do but wait and stare at the tiny screen. 

Right now, Rodney wished he'd asked the others to come along; at least he'd have someone to talk to. He leaned forward, almost spilling his coffee. The pattern was coming in clear but there was no sign of a wreck. Not unexpected—it was a big ocean and the current could have moved it.

Not finding the ship on the first try was a minor disappointment; the true discovery was that his software worked! Rodney couldn't wait to head back and tell the others. He rose from his seat, ready to do just that, when an image on the screen caught his eye. 

Far too small to be a ship, it sat by itself on the sea floor without a trace of wreckage anywhere near it. He tweaked the resolution for a clearer picture, unable to believe what he was seeing. The image the data displayed gave every appearance of a giant clamshell. 

Rodney tapped at the keyboard, trying to see where it had gone wrong. Running into large biological wasn't unusual in this line of work, and he'd heard tall tales of clamshells large enough to swallow a man whole, not that he believed them. But why would it be here, this far away from any reefs? 

Pausing, he turned his attention to the winch. He nervously tapped the side of his coffee mug. He could haul it aboard. It would mean diving alone to secure the straps to it, but after that would be easy. Ronon and Teyla had warned him time and again not to dive alone, but it was right there, just a few dozen meters under him. 

Rodney peered over the edge of the boat, burning with curiosity. He had the wetsuit and tanks. He knew exactly how to do it; he just wasn't terribly proficient at it. With a sigh, he set up a marker buoy and dropped it over the side. 

He'd be back tomorrow with his crew.

~*~

"Teyla, did you remember to—?"

"Yes, Rodney, the tank is all set up. Ronon and I took care of it last night right after you called." She blew into her regulator and checked the gauge. "By the time we get back, the epoxy will have set and we can add the seawater."

"Okay." Rodney knew what it meant when she raised her eyebrows like that and he knew when shutting up was a good idea. As it was, she and Ronon were doing him a big favor by agreeing to drop their plans and come out on the boat with him today. 

"I still think my idea of draining the hot tub and filling it with seawater would have been easier," Ronon chimed in. He sat on the edge of the boat, geared up and ready to do a backflip into the water. 

"Oh yes," Rodney snapped, "if you never wanted to use it again after the salt finished corroding it."

Ronon grinned at him through his teeth. "It's not like you're ever going to use it. At least not for a date. Do you date?"

Teyla coughed into her hand. "He does have a point."

"Because I'm working and I don't have time for a social life. I could get a date if I wanted to—oh, never mind." Rodney pointed to the LiDAR screen. "There's the buoy and there's our baby."

The image on the screen showed the curves of the large clamshell in detail, as well as the undisturbed flat terrain around it. Rodney frowned at the screen. The clam was giving off a heat signature that he couldn't explain. He finally decided that it must have something to do with its unusual size rather than his equipment.

"In just a minute, we'll be right over it. It's sitting at a depth of twenty meters. That should be a piece of cake for you two."

"Rodney, look at the radar," Teyla nodded towards a second screen tracking sonar. A blip had appeared out of nowhere and it seemed to be heading right for them. "Did you tell anyone else about this dive?"

"Of course not," Rodney said.

"Maybe they saw the buoy yesterday and are coming back for a closer look?" Ronon suggested.

"If they think they're going to beat us to some kind of treasure they've got another thing coming," Rodney huffed, affronted at the idea that someone might try to take their treasure right out from under them. Yes, it was just a giant clamshell, but it was _their_ giant clamshell.

"How quickly can you get down there, get the harness on that clam, and get back up safely?"

"Quick enough," Ronon said, and back flipped over the side. With a nod of approval, Teyla jumped into the water right after him. 

Wasting no time, Rodney unspooled the winch harness and dropped it over the side. For the first few minutes, he paced from stern to aft, trying to keep an eye on both the approaching craft and checking over the side for any sign of his friends. 

"Idiot!" He slapped himself on the forehead. The LiDAR; he could pull the images on his laptop and see everything Ronon and Teyla were doing while still keeping an eye on the sonar. 

Frustratingly long minutes ticked past until finally he saw Ronon tug on the line. Jumping up, Rodney reached for the winch and hit the power switch. "Hurry hurry hurry." He felt ready to grab the harness himself and pull it on board with his bare hands when Teyla climbed up the ladder and into the boat. Before she could get her gear off, Ronon joined them.

"Easy!" Rodney yelled, as they swung the winch over, and eased the clamshell down on to the deck.

"We got this, McKay," Ronon said. "Don't you think you'd better start the engines and get us out of here?"

"What?! Oh, god, yes. Teyla, haul up the anchor."

"Already done." 

She was grinning at him. Both of them were. Rodney couldn't help but grin back, for no other reason than that the three of them had brought up something extraordinary from the ocean floor. He could feel it in his bones.

"Leave the buoy," Ronon suggested. "Make them think there's still some treasure we're coming back for later. That should distract them long enough for us to get out of sight." 

As Rodney turned the wheel, Teyla dug a tarp out of the supply chest, soaked it down, and laid it over the shell. "To protect it from drying in the sun," she explained. "When you said it was large, Rodney, I never pictured anything quite this big."

With his hands on his hips, Ronon gave it a long, considering look. "Do you think there's a giant pearl in there? We could crack it open and find out."

"No! I mean, that's what the tank's for, to coax it into opening naturally."

"I was just kidding, McKay. Hey, maybe you can get your LiDAR to see what's inside."

They debated the merits—no, it wouldn't work—and speculated on what it might contain—not aliens— in between celebrating their success. After a few minutes, Rodney handed the wheel over to Ronon and sat beside his clam for the rest of the way home.

~*~

Three days later, Rodney stood in his living room and debated the merits of putting a huge tank with a giant clam inside it in his living room. Possibly not his brightest idea.

Fresh out of the shower, he held his towel around his waist with one hand, and his coffee in the other and glared at the clam. It had been three days now with no changes. He'd experimented with water temperature and different degrees of light with negative results. Now he was out of ideas. Rodney sighed. It was too damn early in the morning for this. 

Ronon and Teyla had taken the _Eratosthenes_ out to fetch back their abandoned buoy. Rodney had made plans to go with them and test out his LiDAR again, but at the last minute, he couldn't bring himself to leave the clam sitting by itself. Yes, he knew his concern that the clam would be lonely without him bordered on the ridiculous but that didn't make it any less true. 

Annoyed with himself for wanting to keep a clam company—oh, god, he really did need to find a date— Rodney stomped off to his bedroom to dress. On the way, he yelled over his shoulder, "You'd better open up by the time I get back or I'm taking a can opener to you, you miserable excuse for a bivalve!"

Once he was dressed, he grabbed another cup of coffee and turned on the two-way radio. Ronon and Teyla should have picked up the buoy by now, and he wondered when they were heading back. After a few seconds of crackling static, Teyla's voice came in over the headset. "This is Teyla Emmagan of the _Eratosthenes_. Rodney, is that you?"

"Who else would it be? Of course, it's me." He could practically hear her roll her eyes. Teyla hated it when he ignored radio protocol. Instead, she surprised him when her voice took on a note of urgency.

"We're heading back, Rodney. There's been an unexpected development."

"What happened?" 

"There is a Navy vessel patrolling the area. We can't get close without calling attention to ourselves. I assume you'd rather we didn't."

"No, no, that's the right call. That's—" His train of thought was interrupted by a series of knocks coming from the tank. His blood ran cold when he realized the knocks were coming from inside the clamshell. He fumbled with the radio, almost dropping the mike. "McKay out." 

Muffled yells of help had been added to the knocking. Shit. The tank was full of water. He ran over to the outtake valve and began draining the tank. He searched the room for a chair or box or something he could climb up on so that he could reach the clam and get it open. 

Grimly, he ran out to the garage. He pulled on a pair of waders and grabbed a crowbar. Every passing moment felt like a time bomb ticking down. By the time he got back, the yelling had gotten louder. 

Rodney took a deep breath and swung the crowbar with all his strength. The plexiglass cracked but didn't shatter. At least the water had started draining faster. "C'mon you bastard, break!" 

He swung again aiming for the crack he'd just made. It was enough to make a man-sized hole and water came pouring out. Catching his breath, he examined the shell for a weak spot, ready to take the crowbar to it if he had to. The yelling had stopped which scared him even more. 

Whatever this was, it wasn't a clam, just an extraordinary copy. He had to hope that trying to pry it open would be enough to break the seal. Otherwise, he was going to have to get the drill and put fucking air holes in it. 

Rodney jammed the crowbar between the halves of the shell and put his shoulders into it. He'd been right about the mechanism holding it. Unlike a living clam shell, it didn't tighten against an outside force trying to pry its way in. Inch by inch, he kept the pressure up until he felt something give, and finally, the shell began to open. 

A man's arm flopped out. 

Rodney reached out and gave it a shake. He was rewarded with a groan. He gripped the crowbar tightly in both hands to keep them from shaking. "You're still alive!"

"Can you get me out?" a gravelly voice asked.

"Yes, of course. Don't move." Rodney pulled a chair over and climbed up on it for better leverage. It took a couple of tries but the top shell finally popped open. He looked down to see a dark-haired man, roughly his own age, wearing an Air Force flight suit and a pair of untied, black, service boots.

"Can you sit up?" Rodney held out his hand to help. He steeled his tongue against saying anything about missing pilots, games of hide-and-seek or experimental aircraft. It didn't take a genius to know something had gone horribly wrong.

The pilot ignored his hand. Instead, he gripped the sides of the shell and swung his legs over the edge. Rodney pushed the chair closer so that he could use it to climb down.

"Whoa, dizzy." He rubbed the back of his neck, while his sharp, hazel eyes took in his surroundings. "I'm Major John Sheppard, Air Force, and boy, am I glad to see you, whoever you are. Frankly, I'd given up any hope of getting rescued."

The pieces began falling into place. "This is an experimental rescue pod, isn't it? Why the Air Force and not the Navy? How long were you in there?" Rodney poked at the soft blue interior. It gave slightly under pressure before trying to mold itself to this hand. "Some type of advanced memory foam?"

"I couldn't say," John said. "Hey, I've been in there awhile. Mind if I to use your facilities?"

When John came out of the bathroom, freshly showered, shaved, and wearing the clean clothes he'd laid out for him, Rodney had breakfast ready. John sat down at the table wearing jeans and a t-shirt bearing the words _Never trust an atom. They make up everything_. 

John plucked at his tee. "Thanks for the clothes. I haven't had a shower or clean clothes or for that matter food in days."

"Hm. So, it's not just a rescue pod but some kind of stasis chamber. I make an effort to keep up with the latest tech; actually, I design a lot of it but I haven't heard a whisper about that kind of advancement. I don't suppose you'd mind if I called a few of my contacts?" Rodney asked.

John paled. "I don't think that's a good idea."

He waited, holding the bacon just out of reach, figuring that Sheppard would be hungry enough to crack any minute. "Then what can you tell me?"

"Are you trying to interrogate me by withholding bacon?" 

"Yes. Is it working?" Rodney waved the plate under John's nose for good measure.

"You're a diabolical mastermind, all right." John snatched a piece of bacon from the plate and bit into it. "Honestly, I don't have that much information to share. And what I do know, well, I don't know how much of that I have permission to share either. Let me use your phone and I might be able to clear some of this up."

"You were screaming get out of that thing less than an hour ago." He let every bit of his skepticism show. "Now you're perfectly fine?"

"I woke up and…" John shrugged. "I don't like enclosed places."

Rodney leaned forward into John's face, suddenly furious. "And what would have happened to you if we hadn't rescued you and you'd woken up under several meters of water still trapped in that thing?"

John opened his mouth then snapped it shut, apparently thinking better of whatever protest he'd intended to make. "Guess I forgot to say thank you. You're right. The shell must have malfunctioned. It should have taken me to the nearest shore and then automatically opened. You said you found it on the seafloor?"

"By sheer chance." Worried, Rodney realized he needed to back off. John's complexion had turned an unhealthy looking grey and he hadn't saved him just to interrogate him into an early grave. Sighing in defeat, he slid his cellphone across the table. "Call whoever you need."

While John made his mysterious phone call, Rodney headed to the living room to begin cleaning up. He looked at the mess in dismay. There was only so much a shop vac could do, and he had a feeling he'd be replacing the soaked rug sooner rather than later. At least most of the furniture and the tv had been spared. 

He glanced over to the kitchen where he'd left John to make his call. John had his back to him and looked like he'd be awhile. Which meant there was no reason not to take this opportunity to explore the stasis pod. What Major John Sheppard didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

~*~

Rodney was so focused on taking samples he never heard John enter the room. He froze when John's hand clamped down on top of his, preventing him from finishing the cut.

"Not sure you should be doing that," John drawled. 

Rodney turned to face him with John's hand still clasped to his. "It's the least you owe me for saving your life!" 

"Maybe I'm just trying to keep you out of trouble!" John yelled back, still holding on. 

"Well, maybe you should let go of me!" Rodney snapped back, confused as to why he didn't just pull his hand away.

"Maybe I should!" John still held onto him. "This is…do you…fuck. What is this?" He pulled Rodney closer. "Do you want me to let go?"

Rodney shook his head. "Not really, no."

They were standing there, holding hands and staring at each other when Ronon and Teyla walked in. 

"Oh, hi, guys." Rodney pushed aside his embarrassment and plowed on with the introductions. "This is Major John Sheppard. John, this is my dive team and my friends, Ronon Dex and Teyla Emmagan." 

"Pleased to meet you. I'd shake your hands but I'm—" John held up their clasped hands. "A little preoccupied at the moment." He shot an embarrassed smile at Rodney but didn't let go.

Teyla's gaze took in the mess and broken tank. "I see you've had an interesting morning, Rodney."

"Where's our giant pearl?" Ronon pointed at John. "Did he take it?"

"No. Um, he sort of is our giant pearl," Rodney said, wincing.

"These guys were with you when you saved me?" John asked. 

"Teyla and Ronon were the divers that brought you up. I couldn't have done it without them." 

"Wait!" Ronon shook his head. "Are you trying to tell us this guy you won't let go of was inside the clam?"

"As weird as I know it sounds, yes."

Teyla picked her way through the broken mess and walked over to the open shell. "There are stories handed down for generations among my people. One tells of giant clamshell that landed on their shore; a blessing from the sea. In another, the islanders say their first king stepped out of such a shell, bringing gifts of wisdom and power."

She laid her hand wonderingly on the shell's surface and turned to face them. "I never expected to see one."

"You planning on cleaning up or holding hands all day, McKay?" Ronon asked, breaking the mood. 

"I'll help," John said. It seemed to take effort on his part to let go but he released Rodney's hand and stepped back. His face paled, almost as if it hurt. 

Rodney shivered at the loss.

~*~

The last rays of the afternoon sun stretched out across the patio. Rodney pulled out an extra chair for John. He didn't think he was fooling anyone when he placed it next to his.

Ronon was cooking burgers on the grill while Teyla passed out the cold beer. She hesitated when she came to John, glancing toward the now clean living room and the open clamshell. "Are you certain you should have this?"

"Absolutely." John reached out and took the bottle from her with a smile.

That smile went straight to Rodney's heart. He absently rubbed at his chest, unable to keep his eyes off John's face. He wanted to reach out and touch him so badly it hurt.

He couldn't ask if John felt the same so instead, he asked, "Are you sure I can't take just a little bit of the shell? Just a few samples? The realism is amazing. Is it some kind of cloning tech?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I think I've got an idea why it coded to my DNA." John held up his free hand. "But I have no idea why it coded to you, McKay."

"Is that what you think it was?" Teyla asked. "That some function of the pod coded itself to your DNA?"

"You don't?" Rodney asked. That was the theory he'd been working on, and it caught him by surprise that John had thought of it too.

"The legends of the island have a different…perspective," Teyla serenely pointed out.

"So, tell us," Ronon said. 

"I'd like to hear that myself." Colonel Jack O'Neill had stepped up behind them without a sound.

"How did he sneak up on us like that?" Rodney glared at John. "Did you know he was coming?"

"That's who I called." John stood up to salute his commanding officer but O'Neill waved it off. 

"As you were, Major. Now, why don't you introduce me to all these good people."

After the introductions, Rodney awkwardly stood and made an excuse to get another chair. He just needed a few minutes alone to adjust to the fact that John would be leaving soon. Probably the military would hide any evidence that he'd even been here, pod included. All of it whisked away before the day was done. Swallowing thickly, he stared down at his own hands. Would he ever see John again?

"McKay get out here," Ronon yelled. "Food's up!"

He came back with the chair, and a fresh determination not to make a fool of himself. And stepped straight into the middle of a conversation between O'Neill and Teyla.

"—you were the ones following us." Teyla accused. "Why?"

O'Neill actually looked uncomfortable under her uncompromising gaze. Ha! Rodney knew he wasn't the only one she had that effect on.

"By us, if you mean the combined efforts of the United States Air Force and the Navy, then yes. We tend to do that when we've lost a pilot and a top-secret military plane. We heard about Dr. McKay's software improvements to the LiDAR and hoped he'd find it for us."

"How the hell did you hear about it?" Rodney scowled. "I've kept my work a secret. Who squealed?"

O'Neill held up his beer. "No offense intended, Dr. McKay, but you're about as secretive as a cat in a barrel of mice." He turned to John and smiled. "Hearing from you, Sheppard, was a huge relief. We didn't think you'd survived."

"I almost didn’t, sir. After I ejected from the plane I blacked out. I must have hit the water pretty hard." 

John pointed towards the living room. "I woke up in one of those in an abandoned facility. At first, I thought the Air Force had rescued me. Then I realized I was completely alone. And as far as I know, we don't have any underwater bases." 

John posed his last sentence as a question, and O'Neill shook his head in confirmation. "Although," O'Neill added, "if McKay's device can find the outpost again, that just might change."

Rodney barely held back a squawk. No one, and especially not the military, was going to use his latest software development without him. He'd promised Ronon and Teyla each a cut of the profits and he'd be damned if he'd go back on his word. Besides, he wanted to see this underwater facility for himself.

"Major," O'Neill continued. "Expect to give a full debrief on exactly what you saw and did when we get back to base. For now, I'd like to go take a closer look at this thing."

They all moved into the living room. Rodney followed last, making sure that he didn't bump into John. Whatever had caused them to hold on to each other had something to do with the pod; he just couldn't prove it yet.

O'Neill stood in front of it and glared as if he could figure out its intention by pure stubbornness. "It looks like a giant clamshell. You went missing for over a week. How much of that time did you spend in this thing?"

"Five days, including the time after Rodney found me."

O'Neill didn't look like he believed him so Rodney rushed to his defense.

"Colonel, I've had nowhere near enough time for a thorough study, but clearly this some kind of stasis pod created by technology superior to anything publicly available." 

"Oh, clearly," O'Neill deadpanned. 

Rodney plunged on. "How else to explain John's survival, his days without food or water, or any trace of decompression sickness."

"Great. Point made." O'Neill turned and pointed his finger at John. "Tell me the rest of it."

John stood a parade rest. "Sir, you already know most of it. I woke up in a pod like this one." 

"Likely some kind of programmed rescue protocol," Rodney offered. "No doubt triggered by proximity." 

"As I was saying," John continued after raising an eyebrow in Rodney's direction, "the area was dark aside from a few running lights illuminating the hallway. I was wet and cold, but I wasn't disoriented. I made my way over to the nearest window and that's when I realized the place was underwater. 

"Underwater. And you just—woke up." O'Neill turned to looked over at the shell and then back over to John and Rodney couldn't help bristling at the wary look on the Colonel's face. 

"Yes, sir. I know what I saw, sir. I—" John straightened and fell into parade rest. "I inspected the area including a search for any native personnel. Once I ascertained that the property was abandoned I looked for a communications array. My attempts were unsuccessful. However, I did locate the main control room. Drop cloths covered most of the consoles. They didn't look like anything I'd ever seen before. I could have been looking straight at a radio and not realized it, sir. After a couple of days, I found a docking bay with more of those clamshell things."

"No doubt that's when you hit on the brilliant plan to ride one to the surface," Rodney snapped. "Did you even have any idea if it would work? You could have died!"

"I was going to starve to death if I didn't do something, McKay." John folded his arms across his chest and glared back at him. "It almost worked!"

"It malfunctioned!" Rodney shouted back.

O'Neill held up his hands. "Now, now, kids, play nice while I figure out what we need to do next."

"Tell him the rest," Teyla said in a voice that defied argument. "Or I will."

Rodney exchanged a long look with John. Taking a deep breath, he held out his hand. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears as he waited. At first, he didn't think John was going to do it, then John smiled, a cocky shit-eating grin reached out, and took his hand.

A wave of belonging swept through him. Of rightness. Rodney didn't understand it, and frankly, he didn't care. Judging from the glint in John's eye, the feeling was mutual. A giggle tried to bubble up and Rodney stomped it down. They were standing in front of a man who could destroy John's career for god's sake. He had to at least try to be sensible. 

"Handfasting, Sheppard?" O'Neill sounded far less surprised than Rodney expected from the Colonel.

"I—I don't know what it is, sir. Not exactly," John stammered. 

"Oh, for pity's sake. I practically live with—ixnay that—I spend too much time with Daniel Jackson. I know Alteran handfasting when I see it."

O'Neill pinched the bridge of his nose. Almost as an afterthought, he turned to Teyla. "You started to say something earlier about an island legend. Now might be a good time to elaborate."

Ronon moved to stand next to her. For support or protection Rodney couldn't tell. He'd never asked how just close the two of them were, they hadn't volunteered that information, and he wasn't going to ask now.

Teyla began her story., "Many generations ago, back when the first island king emerged from the sea in a shell very much like this one, my ancestors tell of the first bond. In the beginning, the king claimed that he only wished to visit and would not stay. 

"His heart spoke differently. The king fell in love with a beautiful maiden and she was equally taken with the king's bold beauty and his gentle wisdom. Their marriage was one of love and everyone rejoiced. The king wished others to find this same happiness so he blessed the shell that had carried him to the island, and sent it back out to the sea. He tasked it a quest: to bring lovers together so that they too might find the same happiness."

O'Neill winced. "Now you've done it. Historical culture references and myths are Jackson's job and I'll have to call him in on this. I hate it when I have to do that. This would have been so much easier if you people had just been pirates."

~*~

Rodney watched as his home was overrun by strangers.

John stood next to him close enough to press their shoulders together. "Relax, Rodney. I trust O'Neill. Nothing is going to happen to your equipment."

"How can you say that? He's already got his minions crating up the clamshell. And whoever this Daniel Jackson is, Teyla looks ready to whack him one."

"Yeah, he can be a little single-minded according the Colonel. He's been trying to find out more about her island legends. Something to do with his studies on the Alterans. For an ancient race, they seem to be a big deal right now." John shrugged. "At least they aren't sticking us in a medical lab and poking us with needles. Yet."

Teyla's raised voice cut through their conversation. "Dr. Jackson, I strongly advise you to tell your people not to interfere in things you don't understand."

"We're just trying to get a better handle on—" Jackson's voice trailed off. Rodney could understand why with the way Ronon stood looming over him. 

"I'm going to see how Jack's doing." Daniel moved several steps back. "Over there."

Good for Teyla; she wasn't afraid to speak up. He could at least do the same. Rodney took a deep breath and approached the subject he'd had been avoiding. "John, this ancient handfasting thing…are you okay with it?"

"Well, I admit it's not something I expected. On the other hand, I didn't expect to be saved from drowning by a freaky submariner stasis pod, find myself waking up in an abandoned undersea outpost, or end up being rescued by you in your living room." He shrugged. "Getting to share whatever happens next with you seems normal by comparison."

"Oh." A surge of relief rushed through him. 

"Rodney? Are you okay with it?" John looked genuinely worried. 

"Yes! I mean, it feels right somehow." He could feel his blood rush under his skin and knew his face was probably bright red by now. "I think— I think I might want to kiss you."

"Later." John squeezed his hand. "When it's a little more private."

Colonel O'Neill cleared his throat. "If I could have everyone's attention, please. I've had a little chat with Daniel and here's the plan. We still have a very expensive experimental aircraft to locate. Dr. McKay has the equipment to make that job easier." He gazed directly at Rodney. The Air Force would like to hire you and your dive team to find it."

"What about John?" Rodney asked. "When does he have to leave?"

O'Neill waved his hand at Dr. Jackson. "Tell them the rest, Danny."

"Miss Emmagan had a valid point. Not only would it be unwise to tamper with the unusual connection formed between Dr. McKay and Major Sheppard without knowing the consequences, there's the cultural significance of Alteran handfasting. Given that we don't know any more about them than what we've been able to find in the few records I've been able to interpret—"

"Get to the point, Daniel." 

"Right. Okay, bottom line; we're agreed that interference with the bond is strictly prohibited. Gentlemen, if you could confer with Miss Emmagan and report back to me about your experiences, especially those similar to the island tales she spoke of, it could be incredibly useful for future off… ah, off continent excursions."

"He means, we'd like the four of you to work together, as a team. " O'Neill clarified. "And, while you're at it, see if you can find that undersea outpost." He turned and looked directly at John. "Whatever goes on between you and Dr. McKay, I don't want to know, Major. I'd just like to get my plane back."

~*~

One month later:

The LiDAR pinged. Rodney rolled his eyes at smile on John's face. Not that he minded; he'd added the audio effects when John had suggested it would be cool if his equipment came with bells and whistles. 

Ronon and Teyla had also heard the beep and they began suiting up for a dive. "Do you think you found it this time, McKay?" Ronon made a show of checking his dive watch. "It's only been, how many days?" 

"Very funny. It's a big ocean, and John," Rodney playfully nudged John in the side, "has a terrible sense of direction."

"Hey!" John slid his arm around him and kissed him on the cheek. "It's too beautiful a day to complain."

"Or work hard, if you had your way, John," Teyla said, joining the teasing.

"Better get back to work, you two, or we're never going to get paid." Rodney dropped the anchor. "We've got an unnatural structure just below. Twenty meters. Should be an easy dive for you." 

Teyla and Ronon finished gearing up and hit the water. Even with their dive masks on, Rodney could tell they were smiling. 

"Well? Do you think we've found it this time?" John asked. 

"The image looks promising. Pity you didn't know exactly what shape the outpost was. It would help to know if I was looking for something square, triangle, or dome shaped. For all the information we have, we could be looking for a stupid snowflake."

"Unconscious and enclosed in a pod, remember? But at least we found the plane. O'Neill was pretty happy about that." 

"True." Rodney leaned into John. So far, they hadn't done more than hold hands and share a few, careful kisses, neither quite ready to rush into anything more. 

The warm sun and clear water made for a perfect day at sea, and Rodney didn't really care if they found the mysterious outpost today, tomorrow, or in the distant future. He ducked his head and smiled into John's shoulder. He'd already found his treasure.

~*~


End file.
